Detox
by Katiesmom07
Summary: House/Wilson SLASH oneshot fic set just after "Detox" S1E11 in which Wilson can't handle that House merely wants to function.


Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own the two sexy men you're about to read about. But if I do ever get a chance to purchase them, I will definitely NOT be sharing! LOL

Author's Notes: I have decided to embark on a little adventure. I have recently been popping in my old DVDs of season one of House and I was thinking of what I thought of the House/Wilson relationship at that exact point. So, I will be writing several oneshot fics each taking place directly after the episode they are named for. There will be spoilers for the episode mentioned, not that will matter since I'm sure each of us have already seen these eps, but I thought I'd better mention it or get scolded! Please keep in mind that I tried to push all information out of my mind except exactly what was given to us in the episode titled and previous episodes. Also, this will **not be a series**, saying that you will NOT have to read this one to read the next. Nothing that happened in this one will be mentioned or will have happened in the next. The only connection is that they will all be House/Wilson mostly SLASH fics. Hope you enjoy!

Detox

My ass hurt. My head was pounding. It had been, overall, a shitty week. For the past seven days I had watched House suffer in pain, hoping to selfishly teach him a lesson. But my entire plan had backfired.

The first couple of days, I had actually been proud of myself. House had taken the bait and was managing without the pills. But then all hell had broken loose.

First off, I had underestimated my ability to watch him suffer. My sympathy for him had lead me to my office several times in the past few days, needing to separate myself from his pain. In my effort to silently apologize and possibly let myself sleep at night, I had in fact paid for the incredibly hot, ridiculously expensive masseuse. But even that had only been temporary. The red rims around his eyes, the constant throwing up and his elevated irritation had been something no one could ignore.

My second dilemma had come with his need for x-rays of his hand. I hadn't realized he'd go to such lengths, to inflict damage upon himself. I had wanted to wretch myself at the first glance of his hand. Once I had found it to be broken I had nearly caved, told him everything. But I had managed to control myself, more scared of his retaliation to the truth.

On top of everything, lying to him had not come easy for me. Literally, I told him everything. Of course there were the little white lies that all friends had between each other, but this was no white lie. This was huge. While House had no problem prying into anyone else's life, he hated for people to meddle in his.

When he had admitted earlier today that he was addicted to his meds, I finally felt a moment of relief. But it had only been a moment. The argument that had followed had nearly pushed me to tears. I had managed to control my emotions until I left the hospital, but my bad mood had lead to yet another argument, this time with my wife.

So I did what I did every time I had a fight with Julie and she kicked me out; I came to my best friend's apartment. Now after having sat on the cold linoleum outside House's apartment door for hours, I realized that both arguments had been completely my fault. Too stubborn to admit that to Julie, I was determined to stay away from the house until at least tomorrow. But that had left me in the predicament of facing House.

So for hours I had been sitting here, waiting. Not that I couldn't find him should I decide to go look for him, but I needed the time to think. Facing my best friend would be no easy task. I had a million things to tell him, and in the past couple of hours, I had managed to convince myself to tell him all but one. No amount of time could prepare me for the last; it would be something I would decide upon when the moment was right.

Exhaustion, not from the hour, though it was late, but from my emotional state was taking over me. I leaned my head against the wall and gave in to the sleep that I hoped would give me the strength to make my next step.

An undeterminable amount of time later, I was woken by the push of the end of a cane against my shoulder. I shook away the sleep and rubbed my eyes, adjusting to the light, before looking up to find him staring at me. His eyes were glazed, the puffy redness from earlier this week having dispersed. Surely he had gone above and beyond his necessary dose of medication, convinced that he had to make up for lost time. Slightly disgusted, realizing that this was mostly my fault, I turned my focus to getting off the floor that I had been sitting on for far too long. He unlocked his door without a word and walked in, leaving it open for me to follow.

It wasn't until after he'd tossed his coat to the side that he asked, "Julie kick you out again?"

I stretched, rubbing the back of my neck in the process. "Yep."

He had ventured into the kitchen and I couldn't help but notice that his limp was much less pronounced than it had been the past few days. The pills really did help his pain. I felt like a complete ass. From the kitchen I heard him yell, "You could've called me. I would've come home earlier."

I scoffed, knowing that that was a complete lie. Even though I was his best friend, my needs would never come before his. Out loud, I attempted sarcasm. "Thought maybe you were on a date or something. Didn't want to bother you."

He poked his head out of the kitchen saying, "Seriously?"

I quickly shook my head. "No."

Disappearing again, his voice rose to allow it to carry from the kitchen to me. "So what got her panties in a ruffle this time?"

Tired of the peek-a-boo game, I made my way to the kitchen doorway before answering. Momentarily I contemplated my answer and decided to go with the half-truth. "She wanted to talk and I wanted her to leave me alone."

"Well, at least you won. She won't bother you here." He walked past me with a sandwich on a plate. "Bring me a beer will you?"

With a roll of my eyes I got two bottles from the fridge and joined him on the sofa. I sat beside him as he ate in silence and wondered if he had any clue as to what was coming. I assumed not. After a deep breath I decided there was no time like the present. "So, a month without clinic duty. That'll be nice."

He spoke with his mouth full. "Yep."

"How's your hand?"

"Broken." I wasn't prepared for his next question. "Wanna get to the point?"

I stared at him for a moment as he ate. Maybe he knew more than I thought he did. I decided to test my theory. "It was me."

He never even blinked. "I know."

I squinted my eyes in his direction, contemplating if he was playing me or if he really did know. There was only one way to find out. "How'd you know?"

He still wouldn't look at me. "Because if it was Cuddy you would've screamed at her in your overprotective high pitched squeal. You would've pleaded with me to stop, offered to my clinic hours yourself if it was that important to me. You only let me suffer when you're trying to prove your own point." His last statement stung my soul. He had suffered and it was all my fault. I wasn't prepared for him to continue. "Next time you could trust me. That is what best friends do right, trust each other?"

Although his words hurt, they would help me later. First, I owed him something. "I'm sorry."

He finally looked at me, his ocean blue eyes piercing me. "No you're not."

I swallowed hard. "Yes I am. I'm sorry that you suffered for nothing. I'm sorry that I didn't trust you. I'm sorry that I lied to you."

I waited for him to insult me, attack me or tell me I was lying. I wasn't ready for him to simply nod and return to eating his sandwich, seemingly accepting my apology. I remained silent, allowing myself to take him in and wondered if he even realized how attractive he was. I chuckled internally, trying to prepare myself for his reaction to the rest of my confession.

"So you're really okay?"

With a small huff, "I'm fine."

Fine, I had learned long ago meant anything but in House's language. If he said he was good, then he was. If he said he was miserable, then he was. But if he said he was fine, he wasn't. "Right, I forgot, you function."

He tossed his sandwich on the plate. I had touched a nerve. He turned to me with an aggravated look. "Yes, I function. Why is that so hard for you?"

"Because I want you to have more."

"Why?"

I wasn't ready to answer that. "Don't you want more?"

"More what?"

Everything. I wanted him to have everything. I wanted him to wake up happy in the morning and go to bed happy at night. I wanted all of his dreams to come true. It was sappy, nothing I could ever say out loud to him. Instead, I took a long pull of my beer and said, "Happiness."

"Overrated."

My frustration was growing more quickly than I had expected. "So you're okay being miserable?"

"I am not miserable. I'm in pain! Haven't we discussed this already?"

My voice rose, uncontrollably. "Yeah, we have. We came to the decision that you're gonna die alone and in pain."

His tone matched mine. "So why are we having this discussion again?"

I shouted my first word before I caught myself, lowering my voice to a calm murmur. "Because…because I can't live with that."

"It's my life. I have to live with it, not you."

My head hung. "But I have to watch it. I watched you suffer this week. I've watched you in pain. I've watched you be miserable. I just…can't do it any more."

"So you came over here tonight and sat outside my apartment for hours to tell me that you can't be my friend any more?"

"No!" I hated the squeak that came with the single syllable, showing my weakness for him. I cleared my throat and started again. "No. I came here to try to help."

"Help what?"

"Us."

"Us?" I could hear the sense of amusement in his voice.

"Can we just talk about your choices here?"

"My choices? Are you going to list them for me?"

My aggravation flared again at his inability to be civil. "I'm talking about the choices you've already made!"

"You mean when I _chose_ to have an infarction in my leg? When I _chose_ to forever be in pain? Or when I decided that I couldn't live with the pain without taking _pain _medication?"

I stood as I ran a hand thru my hair and began to pace. "Don't you think I know you're in pain? Don't you think I know you need to manage your pain? I do prescribe medication for my patients!"

"I don't think you have any idea what I go thru!"

I flung my arms out. "Maybe if you'd let me in then I would!"

"Let you in where? You're here!"

"Let me help you, House!"

He finally stood. "I don't need help! I make my own decisions. I _function_. And until I have someone that cooks my meals and shares my bed, I don't need to let anyone else tell me what I should do."

"I already cook your meals and I only don't share your bed because you make me sleep on the couch!" I sucked a deep breath in and froze after I realized what I'd said. My eyes were wide, like a deer in headlights, waiting for him to do something, say something.

Without a word, he carried his plate into the kitchen. It took a few minutes for him to return and I used the time to calm my rapid heartbeat. When he entered the room, his face was blankly serious. I waited for what seemed like an eternity, my breath caught in my throat, but he never spoke.

I attempted to hold my head up as I headed for the door, taking his silence the only way I could. I bit the side of my cheek, holding back the tears that were threatening. There had been many nights in my life where my wife had kicked me out of my own home, but I always found safety and comfort here in House's apartment. Tonight was the first time that I had been sent from his home, forced to find sleep in a hotel or perhaps my office on the sofa.

A shiver ran down my spine when I heard his word as I reached for the doorknob. "Wait." My hand dropped, but I didn't turn. I couldn't let him see the tears that had begun to fall down my cheeks. "You aren't trying to help my as my friend, you're trying to help me as my…what? Partner? Lover? Are you in love with me?"

My head fell back as I tried to blink the tears away. This was the one thing I hadn't convinced myself to tell him. Right now I was verging on getting my heart broken. I had been in love with him for longer than I could remember and no matter what happened I would continue to love him. After a deep breath, I replied in a faint whisper. "Yes."

The silence that followed, even though it was only moments long, seemed like an eternity to my aching heart. When he finally spoke, I nearly jumped. "I'm still not changing for you."

My chest heaved. Of course he wouldn't. "I know."

"So why tell me?"

I turned to him, not caring about my tears any longer. "Because…because when people are in love, they share it. And because I thought maybe if you knew someone loved you, you'd be just a little happier and maybe…maybe you wouldn't need so many pills."

"I take the pills because I'm in pain. Unless your love can heal me, then I highly doubt it will change my intake." I nodded, knowing that would be his response. "Not to mention that fact that if I'll be taken up the habit of having sex two or three times a week, I may need a little increase. My leg's not used to that kind of exercise."

A stood in stunned silence as he walked toward the bedroom. It wasn't until he yelled down the hallway, that I shook myself from my trance. "Are you just gonna stand there all night or are you coming to bed?" Like a lost puppy dog, I walked down the hallway and stopped in his bedroom's doorway. I watched as he pointed to the left side of the bed. "You can have that side."

He undressed down to his boxer-briefs and t-shirt as I stood in silence, watching his unveiling in shock. He seemed completely comfortable, as if nothing had changed between us. As he got under the covers, propping a pillow behind his head he said, "If you're going to just stand there all night, the least you can do is turn out the lights."

I did as he suggested, remaining in my position. A few minutes passed before his voice cut through the darkness. "You said the only reason you don't share my bed is because I make you sleep on the couch. Now I'm asking you to come to bed with me and you're just going to stand there?" I remained in my position, caught between shock and terror. "I'm not getting out of this bed to come get you. I do have the ability to be kind, thoughtful and maybe a tad bit romantic. But I don't do anything that involves putting more miles on my already aching leg."

I took one tentative step toward him before saying, "But you told me you didn't want a relationship."

"Right. Because the only one I wanted was with you. And somehow my ability to read people failed me when it came to you. Had I known you wanted to share my bed, trust me I would not have turned you away."

My brain was mush; swirling in every direction. "Is this some sort of joke?"

"I love you too, Jimmy. Now get your ass in bed. My leg hurts and you have about four years of sex to make up for."

I crossed my arms over my chest, pushing myself past the disbelief. "Four years, huh?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm rounding. I'm sure you probably know the exact day you fell in love with me. You most likely mark it on your calendar every year and can tell me right now to the day how long it's been since that very first moment. But if you fell in love with me then you must know by now that I'm not that guy."

"Now clue me in. Is this the kind, thoughtful and tad bit romantic side I've been missing?"

His sarcasm that I secretly loved set in. "Did I miss the part where you actually got into bed?"

Somehow, his humor had pushed me to a relaxed state, although I was I still befuddled at the sequence of events. I stripped to my boxers and t-shirt and joined him in bed. It wasn't until I made it under the covers that my discomfort set in. My body was rigid, unsure of what my next move should be. I had shared a bed with my fair share of women in my life, but a man was a completely different story, let alone House.

I wasn't sure if he had sensed my anxiety or if it was just him being him, but he quickly turned my mood with his humor. He yanked at my arm with his order. "Get over here." Before I knew what was happening, his lips were on mine, creating the unfamiliar sensation of his stubble against my chin and cheeks.

The kiss was everything I'd every dreamed of and so much more than I ever expected. His hands, one at the back of my neck, the other holding firm at the small of my back, felt like hot coals burning my skin. Somehow my nearly unconscious mind guided me to wrap my arms around him as he deepened our kiss, his tongue finding it's way into my mouth.

I couldn't help the moan that rose from my throat, lost in my own fantasy. When he finally pulled his lips from mine, I felt as though he'd taken a piece of me with him. Truthfully, he'd always held a part of me, I just wasn't comfortable admitting it until that moment.

True to himself, he pulled me from my thoughts. "So, about the sex." I couldn't help but laugh. I had just gone through what I thought was the most traumatic experience of my life and he made it seem like a walk in the park. I opened my eyes to find him staring back at me. I was shocked at his sincerity. "I love making you laugh."

A chill rose to my skin and I had no idea how to respond. I wasn't used to this side of him. Normally I would say that he would mock me if I showed any genuine emotion, especially if it was directed toward him. But tonight he had emerged a different person. I fought with the right words before settling on just being me. "I love seeing you happy."

"Oh, Jimmy, the hopeless romantic."

"And you can live with that?"

He was silent for a few moments and I tried to push the worry from my mind. My mind was put at ease when he spoke. "I'll make a deal with you. I'll live with all your sappy moments if you'll forgive all the times that I'm an ass when I shouldn't be."

The deal was meaningless. To love House was to understand that he was an ass at sometimes the most inappropriate moments. I had already conceded that I was ready to handle that. The deal was win, win for me. But I had a plan of my own. "I will agree to your deal if you agree to mine." His head tilted in anticipation. "If you ever feel the need to…harm yourself…for any reason, you'll come to me first, let me help."

"This is one of those moments, isn't it?"

"Trust me. That's what best friends do, remember?"

"Just how long are you planning on keeping me around?"

This one was easy. "As long as possible."

"I'm gonna make you miserable."

"Not if I make you happy first."

"Is that a challenge?"

"For myself, not you."

He gave me his signature curt nod. "Then…deal." I initiated the kiss this time, signifying my thanks. When I pulled back, he wasted no time. "So, about the sex."

I flung my head back in laughter, loving him more every minute. Yes, I had watched him suffer. I had suffered. But now it was over. And it was all worth it.


End file.
